SENT - Day After Christmas Poem


Subbuteo Rugby

A very happy Christmas to you all. I love Christmas morning. Let me ask you, what was the earliest you got up to see what Santa left? For me it was just 30 minutes after midnight. I lay waiting until my parents went to bed. I reckoned that Santa must have been. I sneaked out and there was my Subbuteo Rugby. I didn’t have the players lined out for a game before my parents were down the corridor telling me to get back to bed. 

Darn… but my 4am wake ups worked so much better. My parents were deeper in their sleep and I used to watch out the window as the McKeown’s light then the Wilson’s lights would go on around the same time.

I always watch carefully on Christmas Day to catch people’s reactions to being given a present. I always wonder what would happen if someone refused the gift they are handed? “No thank you” they say. “I’d prefer not to take that from you.” How would that go?

Then what if someone took the gift and just set it down somewhere. The giver asks if they want to know what it is. “Oh no”, they reply, “It was the thought that counted. I don’t want to get over excited or fanatical. I’ll just look at it occasionally and think of you!”

Give a gift to me today and I’ll have it out of your and, no matter how expensive or carefully wrapped the paper, I’ll have it ripped off off to see what is in there. I love Christmas. I love the gifts. I am up with my children, no matter how early to see what is in that stocking.

And what of the baby. That other gift of Christmas. We all know the words and can dismiss them with over familiarity. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” What a gift. There, in the nativity decoration. There, in the manger. God’s gift to us all. How will we respond on this Christmas morning? Like I did with that Subbuteo Rugby?


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